It's 1:30 pm Thursday afternoon. Since Monday, I've been getting in to the office at 6:30am and leaving around 7:30pm.
Tomorrow night, I have a friend coming in to town from Boston for the Red Sox series at The Yard. Staying with me, which implicates certain hosting/entertainment obligations. According to rumor and texts, he took off this morning for a leisurely, two-day, drive South, scheduled arrival tomorrow afternoon. For my part, tomorrow morning I'll be getting up at 4:00 am to catch an early train to New York City for a 10:00 am meeting with a private equity client. Then heading back to D.C. mid-afternoon. I'm sure I'll be ready for an evening of debauchery when I get back home sometime late evening [this is sarcasm].
And, to top it off, we had a pre-mediation call with a mediator this morning, who requested the parties up the previously agreed upon briefing schedule, due to some sort of approaching Jewish holiday. As a result, I now find myself with a deadline of next Friday for a brief I have yet to begin, a draft of which will be due to the client by Wednesday. When this brief will get drafted is, at the moment, a mystery.
I'd love nothing more than to spend this weekend working. Seriously . . . . However, this looks to be an impossibility at the moment. Unless I just decide to be a really, really (like, really) bad host. In the words of Lightning, "FML" . . .